


Part Two: The Book of Djedi

by golden_bastet



Series: Horizon of the Aten [2]
Category: The Professionals (TV 1977)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-06 03:13:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21219626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/golden_bastet/pseuds/golden_bastet





	1. Chapter 1

The top of the cliffs afforded a fine view of the Great Road, and Akhetaten as it fitted into its curve. Djedi often spent his few free moments whenever he was at the cliffs just staring over the panorama in appreciation. There lay the city, with the buildings lining the boulevard, majestic from up here where the first edges of decay were not visible. Off to the side was the village nestled close to the shore. All appeared in harmony.

One could feel from here that the Aten had greatly blessed the land.

But today, three little white blobs were making their way up from the south.

_Oh, that isn't good. If they're visible from here, they aren't small. And if they aren't small, there are few who would have ships that large._

They had always lived in fear that the outside world would come in and intrude on the isolation of Akhetaten; each announcement of a new pharaoh - and they had had four such announcements since Pharaoh Akhenaten had attained his horizon - had brought a new level of fear, although before now nothing major had materialised.

They had been left in peaceful isolation, to be forgotten.

But none of them were stupid; they knew that matters could change rapidly.

The sudden presence of the military in their lives would not be a sign of anything good, and could be a sign of great evil. They all had worked so hard to stabilise the city after the mass exodus. He just desired above all that they could live in peace.

He followed the progress of the vessels as they moved towards the shore. Now that they were closer it was clearly as he had feared; these were official vessels, the shapes resolving into large military ships manoeuvring into the docks over by the Great Palace of Akhenaten.

Well, they would adapt to this, as they had to everything else. They had no choice. But there would be too many things to do, too much to plan around the approaching visitors. No time to spend on gazing and dreaming of what-ifs.

_And after all this time, the Aten still looks down upon us. Who knows - maybe we can wrest a positive or two from those ships._

He turned to descend from the cliffs.

# # #

Word had quickly spread through the ranks of the priests that military ships had arrived in Akhetaten.

"Where are they now?" Bek was one of the younger priests, excitable, always eager.

"Djedi confirmed they've moved into the old barracks of the Great Palace." Nebwenef was one of the older priests - or was passed for old among the remaining priests - and served in part to offer guidance to the temple. "Given the lack of speed, it doesn't look like they are planning anything immediately. But we will need to keep an eye on their activities, make sure that we don't end up surprised by an attack."

"Plus I don't think there are enough to cause us major damage," Djedi continued. "They are, of course, armed, but they would need more soldiers for any decisive attack."

"Agreed," Nebwenef. "We'll solely need to keep an eye on them for now. Has anyone alerted the villagers?"

"Yes," replied Harkhaf. "As soon as Djedi got back, a couple of us headed over to speak with them. But they'd seen the ships approaching as well."

"Okay, excellent," Nebwenef seemed pleased. "Djedi, best if you keep an eye on them; study their movements."

"Sure," Djedi replied. "I'll take Bek with me."

"Harkhaf, arrange a meeting with the villagers in five days' time once we have more information on their movements."

"Will head over right after this meeting, Nebwenef," Harkhaf replied.

"Yes," Nebwenef steepled his fingers. "We'll soon find out what Pharaoh's army has in store for us."

# # #

"Well, they certainly don't seem to do much."

Djedi and Bek stood alongside the boulevard, at a distance, watching the military parade that had trotted itself out, just as it had every morning that week. Bek squinted at the soldiers, as though he could see into their souls by doing so.

"Either they're incredibly inept, or they don't have any specific orders." He shook his head in disbelief.

"Or both," Djedi semi-agreed. "But troops are costly, and these are coming from somewhere else. They didn't bother to train fresh troops just to come after us. Truthfully, I think this buys us a little time."

"Well, I hope you're correct." Bek couldn't keep the doubt from tinging his voice.

"Maybe... just maybe, there _is_ something we can do to draw out their intentions."

"And not get us killed? M'all ears, Djedi."

"It's about time for the mid-Akhet feast day. Let's put on a procession, like in the old days."

"What!" Bek clearly thought he was crazy. "And have them strike us down where we stand?"

"No, they won't. If they were that concerned, they would have surrounded the temple as soon as they got here," Djedi reasoned. "They have left us completely alone, not even approached us. A procession will either evoke an order to stop, which will be little different from the fact that we stopped the processions years ago; a discussion, which will enable us to find out more about what they want; or nothing at all, in which case nothing has changed. But I think this is safe enough to proceed with."

"You like to live dangerously, Djedi - but I think you're right. The risks here are relatively low. We should head back to the temple, discuss it with the others."

"And then we can put together a show for these louts." Djedi smiled.

# # #

Life at the Small Temple of the Aten was very circumscribed in most ways.

Gone were the crowds and massive temple offerings of the rich. The poor had never been compelled to worship only the Aten - and, as it turned out, the rich had done it mainly to curry Pharaoh's favour - so after the Exodus, after Pharaoh Akhenaten had passed and all those who could had left with the new Pharaoh back to Wastet, there were few to hold processions for. As a result, ceremonies had been cut back and efforts spent towards providing the necessities of life.

So it had been a while since the priests had held a formal procession. Djedi just hoped they could pull it off properly - their purpose was not to nark off the Aten, after all.

The priests at the head of the column sounded off their clappers, and the line, small as it was, tightened up. The gate swung out, albeit a bit unsteadily; a few men at the front gathered around it for a few minutes, and then it swung more smoothly, and the column proceeded onto the road.

Djedi was towards the rear of the procession, acting as an anchor point. Head down, fist against heart, he chanted the immortal words along with the rest; but he also kept alert to their surroundings.

There were few outside the temple. It was hot, as to be expected; it was also midday, and most reasonable folk would have retreated to the shade of their dwellings. He had seen the soldiers scattered about the city enough to know they weren't so reasonable, so he fully expected to see a few of them in the street.

And he wasn't disappointed. Two men stood to the side, staring at them. _Good way to mark yourselves as strangers, mates._ Fortunately, no visible weapons, which meant that the soldiers were not on the verge of moving agains them. Yet.

For a second, he looked up - and he locked eyes with one of them: tall, well-built, and some of the bluest eyes he'd ever seen.

For a second, the world froze around them...

The man's companion looked over as well, gesturing at the line.

Djedi scowled and looked away, continuing on with the other priests.

_Stupid berks._


	2. Chapter 2

Djedi had been born on the steps of the Great Temple of the Aten - that is to say, he'd been left there in a blanket as a babe, the first marker of his existence. The priests of the Aten, open to the beneficence of the god, took him in; but, not greatly interested in actually raising a child, paid vanishingly little attention to the boy growing up in their midst. He was given a formal name, Djedi, as part of placing him on the official rolls; but more often than not, they just called out Idu! - boy! - when they wanted him for something.

Djedi didn't greatly mind his upbringing; he was fed, and clothed when necessary, and had a place of his own to sleep. By the age of five the priests had started putting him to work running errands and doing small tasks around the temple - nothing a small lad couldn't handle, and light enough to allow him free time to explore on his own.

The temple was a wonderful place to a small boy who knew it as home. It was large, with all sorts of nooks and crannies scattered throughout, just the right size to hide and observe. Oh, he'd been a right tearaway, getting into all sorts of trouble outside the temple whenever he slipped out; but hide and observe was exactly what he did inside, learning the rituals and hymns offered up, and the processional rites, and seeing the many goods that the faithful brought in offering to the Aten. He'd absorbed a religion that had given him a home and coincidentally provided him with a foundation.

So when the great exodus had taken place, to him it wasn't the shock that it could have been. True, there had been great changes: he'd had to shift focus and mature, learn how to defend himself, the priests, and the villagers. And within only a few years the priests themselves, finding it near impossible to maintain a large temple, had relocated to the Small Temple of the Aten. But he still sometimes found his way inside the courtyards of the old temple, spending some time alone in the arms of its solace.

# # #

Early morning was Djedi's time with the Aten.

The priests had various devotions they carried out to honour the Aten. This was a matter of personal preference, especially since the practice had shrunk and too few people had too many duties; it was felt that observance in the breach was better than no observance at all. As for himself, Djedi loved to go off alone and honour the Aten as it made its first appearance to announce the new day.

So he would slip into the Great Temple and welcome the greatness of the Aten.

This day, he was out in the offerings yard, facing the eastern cliffs, as the sky lightened more and more and the moment of glory was nearly at hand.

He took several deep breaths, hand on kilt, ready to start; then, as the first arm of the Aten peaked over the cliff, he dropped his kilt and straightened and sang his devotion.

_I breathe the sweet breath_

_Which comes forth from thy mouth._

_I behold thy beauty every day._

_It is my desire_

_That I may be rejuvenated_

_With life through love_

_Of thee._

_Give me thy hands, holding thy spirt,_

_That I may receive it and may live by it. _

_Call thou upon my name unto eternity,_

_And it shall never fail._

He stood, arms outstretched, feeling alive and his soul on fire, the Aten caressing his limbs in benediction. And as always, his soul soared and sang for that instant, and then it dropped down to earth and back into his body.

Djedi took a shuddering breath, then collected himself; baring up his soul in this way was always an intense practice, and one which he was careful not to share with others. He leaned over and picked up his kilt, thoughtfully wrapping it around himself, pulling the knot to.

And then looked over towards the road, to see a figure staring at him. He had company.

# # #

Djedi marched over to where the figure stood, more than a little angry. _Devotion is each man's private business. Don't care who he is, he has no right - _

"Lose something, Sunshine?" he snapped at the man. _It was the one from the day of the procession, who'd been staring then, too._

The man stood, just staring - and his mouth was agape.

"Keep gaping like that, and the flies will think your tongue is a spoiling piece of meat."

The man looked him up and down, with what was at first an intensely focused look that he smoothed out. He then straightened himself up and closed his mouth.

"No, saw you standing there, was wondering what fool would be out in the dark. There's a curfew or two in effect, you know."

"Why, so you can butcher us?" _Slowly, Djedi._ _Keep a lock on your temper._

"What are you on about? We're here to keep the peace, is all."

_Surely he can't believe that._ "Keep the peace by getting rid of us, you mean. Yes, I'm one of those Atenists. We aren't stupid, you know. We know why you lot are here."

"Well, who are 'we' and what have you done that we're to get rid of you?"

Djedi wanted to lash out. _Why are we playing these games?!_ "Berk - you're the new Pharaoh's lot - "

"That's 'new Pharaoh Life, Prosperity, Health' to you," the other man snapped.

"_**His**_ military, sent to enforce his bidding. Everyone is well aware Pharaoh's sent you to 'take care' of us, remove all traces of the past. Mind, we've been here for decades. After Pharaoh Akhenaten passed, life, prosperity, health," Djedi emphasized, "we took over duties at the Temple of the Aten. Someone had to continue on with the ceremonies, even if the new Pharaohs - 'life, prosperity, health'," he added with a bit of snark, "had returned to the old religion.

"Most leave us alone, afraid we'll contaminate them. Some hardier souls with something to prove figure they'll try to stop us from whatever fantasy they have us doing. It's just a matter of time before someone decides we're too much of an inconvenience and outright kills us. So why should you behave any differently?"

"Maybe those aren't our orders, sunshine."

Djedi had had enough of this conversation at this point; it would go nowhere. "Well, if you're not about to kill me - at least not today - you should be on your way. Doubt your lot would want you to have anything to do with us. I have things to attend to, either way."

"That's rather abrupt. I thought priests were kindly souls, out to help the flock."

"Yes, and maybe the flock bit one too many times. We may be a bunch of dull-witted priests; but learned our lesson, haven't we?" He leaned down, picked up his sack, and left. Though his mind urged at him to turn around, he refused to look back.

# # #

Djedi stood once again, naked to the world, awaiting the benediction of the Aten. And there it was - one ray crested the top of the cliff, came down and blessed him, launching his soul into the sky.

He sang the words of the hymn, but barely heard them, they were so much a part of him. He more floated up into the light of the sky, soaring overhead, above the cares of mankind.

And then he was settling down, his body re-sensitising to the early morning chill against his bare skin, the earth soft beneath his feet, the glare of the sun now blinding rather than blessing in his eyesight.

He picked up his loincloth and wrapped it around his hips, tying it tight against his hip. He was quite comfortable with no clothing, but it was possible to bare oneself to the Aten only briefly - too much exposure would only cause the soul to burn faster than a scroll in a fire.

And once again he had company, regarding him from the edge of the field.

"Back again, soldier? No place to call home?" He couldn't fathom what drove the soldier out here at dawn, especially since the man would likely have duties to carry out with the sunrise.

"You're in fine fettle this morning, Sunshine. Don't like my company?"

"Not sure what you get out of this. Just standing there, gaping," Djedi pointed out, skeptically.

"So I've graduated from 'spy,' then?"

"Haven't graduated from anything at this point," Djedi answered acerbically.

"Tell me about the Aten. And before you say it," he cut Djedi off, "I'm not here to execute you."

"Never a dull moment with you. What do you want to know about the Aten?"

"What's the - no, most folk worship what they know. Said you were a foundling. How did you end up at the temple?"

_He's either a very good actor, or he truly wants to know._ "Well, was a foundling - "

"Said that already," replied the other man, " - oh, okay, I'll shut up and let you finish now," he said, a little abashed, arms raised, as Djedi shot him a look filled with daggers.

"As well you should," Djedi replied crisply, before slowly continuing. "Was left on the steps of the temple. The priests raised me; started learning the rituals before I could walk. The Aten is all around us, blesses us, illuminates all and makes the crops grow. It's as simple as that."

"But what about Amon-Ra, Horus, Hathor, Isis? There's too much in the world for one god to cover."

"I cannot convince souls by word alone. But proof of the Aten is all around. The Aten's world are larger than one man - or god. And," he continued, changing the subject, "you can't have come out just to watch me."

"Taking a morning run. Running does a body a world of good. If you don't want an audience, then maybe you shouldn't perform in public."

Djedi, indignant, felt the wave of anger wash over him. "Worship is sacred and personal. Didn't have any audience gadding about before you came round."

"Yeah, well, no law against being out at this time of night."

"Maybe 'no law' if you're a soldier. Technically, the people who live here are not supposed to be out - that curfew that you mentioned yesterday. And I'm not 'out'; this is my home."

"Touché. I'm outside the temple, not in your yard. So consider me a neighbour."

"Sure. You don't respect gates, so I'll just peg you as the annoying soldier next door."

Once again, he picked up his kit and strode off.

# # #

Djedi had headed down to the village to meet with Huya, one of the elders. They had all been on edge for weeks, waiting for the military to make some move, any move; by now, Huya was about to explode. He had been restlessly pacing inside the tent by the lake once Djedi lifted the flap and entered.

"How can we continue on? They've come, Djedi. We've known for years that this could happen, and now it has."

"Doesn't mean our work is over, Huya." He laid out two dishes and filled them with beer from the large jar in the tent, then passed one to his companion. "Here - drink."

He picked up the second dish and slurped the bracing brew, appreciating the taste. The House of Beer was small, but renowned for its potent brew.

Huya tipped his dish back and finished it in one gulp.

Djedi took another slurp, then cleared his throat. "Jar's not about to sprout legs and walk off," he pointed out, though not sure the other man could be calmed down at the moment. "And we'll be here with it."

"Well, they're here now, aren't they?," Huya replied, not needing to detail who 'they' were. "We're going to have to act soon, else the decision will be taken away from us."

Something rustled outside, and Djedi lowered his voice, unsure of the source of the noise. "Keep your head. They know nothing," he pointed out. "We have more than enough time to plan this carefully."

"And the second they find out, we're all thrown to the crocodiles!" Huya hissed.

"Stop your whingeing; no one is going to be thrown to the crocodiles." Djedi gestured with his hand for Huya to lower his voice. "We got through the last ten years, we'll get through this."

"But -"

"But nothing. If you lose your head, we've already lost. We'll continue on as we have been, and we'll finish what we started."

Djedi paused, then pushed: "Okay?"

"Okay," replied Huya, though clearly he wasn't.

"Then let's leave," Djedi nodded at the tent opening, "we've been gone too long already." _Shouldn't stay if someone is out there. But no need to feed Huya's panic_.

They rinsed the dishes in a bucket of water; then, leaving them drying alongside the large jar, they made their way out the tent to the path back to the village.

Djedi turned for an instant, scanning the reeds beside the tent. He thought he saw something there; but it could well have been a crocodile, and he had no weapon with him. Frowning, he turned back to Huya and they made their way towards the village.

# # #

The sky was black; the silver Aten was not meant to course across the sky tonight.

Djedi cracked opened the gate of the Small Temple and peeked around at the surroundings. Satisfied that all was still, he slipped through the entry onto the boulevard, then headed towards the cliffs.

Fifty cubits down, he knew he had company.

_Let's make this interesting, then._

He kept up a brisk pace, then cut down a particular side street he knew. He slowed down, to give the shadow time to catch up, then slid through the pathway into a passage that he knew, that one would have to know to identify.

Soon enough - and almost too soon - his pursuer came pounding up the pavement and came to an abrupt halt, once he realised he could no longer see where Djedi had gone.

_It's that soldier again - the arrogant one_.

Which just made Djedi's blood boil.

_Time for some answers._ Almost before he knew it, he'd leapt out at the man and had him bowled over on the ground in surprise, his knife drawn and at the soldier's throat.

"Why are you following me?" Djedi growled.

"Why are you threatening a soldier of Pharaoh's army?" the soldier echoed back.

_Smart arse. Well, two can play at that._ "According to Pharaoh's code, soldiers are not permitted to harass citizens - much less priests - without cause. I am well within my rights to claim self defence." He pressed the knife a bit more into the throat, just enough to make his point clear.

"S'not self-defence when you're off to cause mischief." The soldier wasn't backing down.

Djedi snorted. "If I were 'causing mischief,' sunshine, you would have had a pack of your friends backing you up," he pointed out.

"Fair enough. If you can shift a bit so I can breathe, we can talk this over reasonably."

Djedi was about to say something, and realised first, just how close he was to the man, sitting over his lap; and second, unbelievably, he thought he'd felt a reaction - _there -_ from the other man.

He jumped up quickly, but said nothing; mainly remained with the knife up in his hand, at enough of a distance that the soldier couldn't take him by surprise.

The soldier managed to rearrange his clothing, his earlier sneer settling once again over his features, and regained his footing.

"Look," he began slowly, "m'sure it's not easy out here, the world seemingly against you -"

"'The world' does include Pharaoh's army," Djedi pointed out.

"Technically yes, it does, though we have no orders regarding your lot. Frankly, this has all been a bit of a snooze. I've been out for walks to keep from going crazy."

_Right._ "And that's why you were hiding in the reeds, then?"

That, Djedi saw, took the man aback.

"Actually,... yes. It was hot, saw the beer jar in the tent, was about to pop in for a draught, heard voices. Didn't know who was in there, and I was out by myself, so decided to wait until you'd left."

Djedi looked at him closely, skeptical. "A spy, then, are you? Pharaoh has all sorts of spies. Even ones who go out for walks to keep from going crazy."

"Persistent little bugger, aren't you?" _Now that <b>__**really**__</b> seems to have got under his skin._ "Got better things to do than to snoop around. What do I do to prove I'm not out to kill you?" He hid it well, but Djedi could see the man was well annoyed.

"Tell me what you want, Master Spy. We can start with that."

"Really, what I want is to know why I'm out in the middle of East Bumfuck with nothing to do. Came from being stationed on the border. All sorts showed up there, friendly and not; went out on plenty of sorties to keep the peace. Lots of action, rarely a dull moment. And then we end up here twiddling our thumbs. I'm a charioteer for Thoth's sake - a charioteer! Haven't even seen a horse since I got here." Now he was clearly angry, was no longer hiding it.

_Interesting._ "Troublemaker, then?" Djedi relaxed slightly. "Troublemaker" he understood.

"Trouble's my middle name," The soldier grinned, relaxing as well. "Though they call me Bakenranef." He held out his hand.

_Trying to pull something, more like. _"Bakenranef. Means 'Servant of the Name of Ra'." Djedi spat in the dust in disgust. "One of the old gods, of course. Troublemaker? More a spy."

Anger briefly flashed in this Bakenranef's eyes, though it didn't spread to the rest of his body. "Most would offer their own names in return, as a gesture of friendship," he said dryly.

"It's Idu." The name, long suppressed, sprang to his lips unbidden.

"Idu? Boy? They call you _boy_?"

"Was a foundling." _That part's true enough._ His knife hand tightened again.

"'The foundling priest.' Now who is fooling whom? And can you put the knife down? A little concerned about the family jewels at the moment. You're all the way over there, I'm not about to jump you."

Djedi, surprised, laughed. _He is not what I was expecting at all. Under different conditions, the sport would be - interesting._ "You head straight for the beer jar, your first concern is for the 'family jewels' rather than your neck - I'm sure _your_ priorities are in the right place."

"Well,..." the man paused, "gotta keep an eye out for my interests. If I don't, no one else will. Though I do have a fondness for my neck, too."

Djedi, laughing again, lowered the blade.


	3. Chapter 3

Djedi looked down from the cliffs, over the sleeping city. The sun would be up soon; he would perform his morning devotions, and then tend to the tomb.

He was sure the annoying soldier would be down there, looking for him in the field by the Great Temple. Well, he wasn't there. And he wasn't about to endanger all their hard work by inviting an enemy into his life, much less his bed.

Djedi was no stranger to love, with either females or males; the Temple believed the love of the Aten to be paramount, and differing expressions of that love always honoured the Aten. But duties, and worries, and threats to the Temple and the village kept them all busy, and there were few chances to partake of that love.

Meanwhile, the soldier would be looking a very long time for him. _Serves him right._

Truthfully, Djedi had been drawn to the muscles and the strong thighs, and what was hinted at behind the kilt. It was tempting ~

But duty came first, would always come first. Too many relied upon him.

# # #

The nights up in the cliffs had been trying on all of them. They needed to prepare so much for the journey they would have to make; supplies, transportation, and even the correct spells have to be organised.

And they had to keep up the rituals as well.

Speaking of which, it would be sunrise soon, and it was his turn; he would need to prepare. He excused himself from the others, to ready himself for his duties.

"Time that I left, brothers."

"Take care, Djedi," Nebwenef nodded briefly, and the others muttered greetings.

He started down the path, and glanced briefly at the sleeping city. A few scattered fires showed, mainly by the barracks. _To be expected, if not welcomed._ But closer, on the road to the cliffs, he thought he saw a figure running their way.

_Something must be wrong._

He felt the blood drain from his face, but determined to meet the figure and see what the problem was.

_No need to panic and assume the worst._

He quickly skirted down the sloped path along the side of the cliff, crossing over to intercept the approaching figure. A rising sense of caution slowed his steps as he approached the runner; after all, they had enemies in the town, and he didn't yet know who this was. He carefully made his way behind some markh bushes, ready to step forward if it were a friend, or remain quiet - and attack - if it were a foe.

The figure was closing in; he was straining to make out who it was when it dropped suddenly. He was about to head over when he heard a low growl come from somewhere opposite of his position. _Likely a lion. And the runner is down._ It was one of the hazards of being out in the hills at night. Bad enough when you knew of the danger, and as a group the priests could well protect themselves; but he didn't think the runner had been aware even before he was injured. And yelling a warning wouldn't be effectual in any way.

Must be one of those soldiers. The only ones stupid enough to be out here now. Though he worried why they would be out and headed for the cliffs.

_Nothing to it; have to go help the downed man._

He dropped his kilt, which would be needed in a few minutes, and pulled out his knife; he then slowly crept forward, looking for the cat. He could hear the man scrabbling around, so scanned for a logical position for a cat -

_There._ A juvenile, and not very far away, but ready to pounce on the unwitting.

As soon as he saw it spring, he moved himself and knocked into it, surprising it enough to then plant his full weight on the unturned body. As long as he focused - and avoided the flailing claws - it was small enough that he could bring it down. He leaned heavily onto the neck, shutting off the windpipe, avoiding the damn claws although the animal was almost large enough to overpower. Just a bit more...

"Don't mind me," was grunted into his ear, and a hand snaked under his to draw a blade across the animal's neck.

The creature began to slacken; within a few minutes, little remained beyond dying muscle spasms wracking the body. Djedi slowly eased off and away.

_The soldier._ Djedi rolled his eyes. _Of course! He sticks around like a bad stomach ailment._

"You have impeccable timing, Sunshine. What the hells are you doing out here?" Though any anger was cut by sheer panting as he caught his breath.

"I could ask the same thing, since you seem to have disappeared," the soldier replied.

"I'm not out trying to get killed by lions, either."

"Well, that wasn't the intent," Bakenranef pointed out. "Wasn't intending to go out this far, period. Though I definitely appreciate the help. How did you learn to do that? And where are your clothes?"

"We Atenists have many talents. And clothes? Didn't need them at the moment, did I? They are safe and sound - and clean, unlike me at the moment. Or you."

"Clothing and you, they don't exactly agree, do they?"

_That's a bit forward._

"What exactly does that mean?"

"You seem to be quite the naturist, for a priest."

_No time for this._ "Never mind what I am, I would expect your commanding officers would be none too happy to find you AWOL when they get up off their palettes. About time you head back home, innit?"

"No rush. Sun's not up yet." The man sounded reluctant to leave, most likely because of the wound.

"It will be soon." _And I need to attend to my duties._ He looked the soldier head to toe, and noticed the ankle was already swelling. "Will you be able to get back like that? Can't exactly carry you myself."

"Don't have much of a choice, do I? Have to get back regardless. Though I should be able to make it; m'not completely out of sorts."

"Not convinced of that, but it's getting late." Djedi thought for a moment, and figured out the best way to handle the situation. "Well, the impossible is our stock in trade. Wait here, I'll be right back." He started off, then turned back to add, "And try not to get eaten this time." He then headed off.

The sun was about to come up, and he couldn't miss the devotions. It wasn't just for him, but for the Pharaoh, as well.

He stood poised, ready, just as a ray of sun peaked over the top of the cliff and lit the valley behind them.

Djedi unfolded and began his chant, the act filling him with energy and lightness.

He thought he could feel another soul, ascending with him as he chanted the words, though he couldn't tell who it would be. He was too wrapped within the hymn to think straight, sinking into the words and the actions.

Finally, the song came to an end and his soul settled into his body. The sun had just cleared the cliff - though the other soul was still linked to his, filling him full of energy.

He turned around and moved closer, standing before the figure - who was the same, yet different.

The other figure touched him, touched his face, over the skin and the ridge of his cheek.

He stood completely still, looking back at him.

The figure leaned in and brushed his lips against Djedi's, then drew back as though he'd been too forward.

But then they leaned forward and met his, a little more firmly.

And everything changed.

Djedi responded like he never had touching, seeking, becoming more demanding, trying to get into the other man's skin. The soldier - for he knew it was the soldier, although he felt different - responded in kind, trading kiss and touch and lick and bite for kiss and touch and lick and bite equally, as though they were meant to become one.

Somehow, they made it to the ground, still intense, feeling nothing beyond each other.

He grabbed at the man's loincloth - it had to, had to go! - and then there was nothing between the two bodies; they lay skin to skin, and heart to heart.

Hands started to kneed his buttocks; he grunted, and his legs fell open in need.

The other man settled on him and began to rub against him urgently. Djedi matched his strokes one for one.

They were frantic in their need egging each other on to reach their peaks. He wondered if the stars above were powered on the energy they were creating. And they they had climbed, were almost there, almost there,

And the world shattered and exploded with the sensation.

# # #

The next days passed as a blur for Djedi.

He'd helped the soldier back to his camp, quiet but comfortable in the feeling of the other body against his. It was the least he could do, given the man's state and the intensity of their coupling. And he had truly enjoyed it, could tell there was some bond between the two of them.

But he wasn't sure what they could do about it.

The soldier - he had said his name was Bakenranef - was wounded, and wouldn't be able to leave his barracks for days. And even if he could - what would they do? They were on opposite sides of a brewing conflict, and Djedi wasn't about to abandon the other priests, the villagers, or - most importantly - Pharaoh Akhenaten. But if the soldier was fated, how could he abandon him? There were no easy answers here.

Well, as the old woman who cleaned the altar when he was a little child used to say, one foot before the other. They would figure out something.

In the meantime, the soldier would have to heal, and there were other preparations to be made.

# # #

Breathless, Bek came stumbling into the Temple meeting room. He'd been running all the way from his lookout at the top of the cliffs.

"Djedi,... Nebwenef,..." he panted.

Djedi came over wth a dish of beer, while the other priests gathered. "Here, drink this and get your breath." He handed the dish over to the panting youth.

He drank it down directly, and his breath began to slow.

"Now, lad, you were on the cliffs, no?" Nebwenef asked.

The boy nodded vigorously.

"What have you seen?" Nebwenef continued.

"A ship," Bek answered.

"Just one?" Harkhaf pressed.

"Yes. Looks like a messenger. Too big n' fancy to be a regular ship."

"Okay, that must be from Pharaoh, then, to update the commanders on their mission. There may be a welcoming ceremony, but any announcement would be in the barracks. We'll have to get into position, then.

"Bek, you keep an eye on the progress of that ship and it's docking. Everyone else, you know what to do."

# # #

Djedi and Harkhaf were in position amongst the columns of the abandoned Great Palace, which in hearing range of the barracks as long as the men were quiet during the announcement.

Djedi was sure that for this, they would be quiet.

Others from the temple and the village had hidden themselves in various strategic places; he was confident they could put together a full report of what was about to happen.

Some time earlier, the procession had wheeled past the gates, all pomp and circumstance, feting the heralds of Pharaoh Horemhab. Djedi felt no obligation to add 'life, prosperity, health' to his thoughts. At this point, a part of his was impatient to find out what was to come their way, so that they could confront it.

A voice rang out, "_the evil of the heretic's time has not been sufficiently exorcised and remains among us still._" On a certain level, the words stabbed into Deed's heart. But he knew his duty, and continued listening.

_ "As for any official or any priest who declares he sits to execute judgment, and yet commits a crime against justice therein, he shall be judged to have committed a capital crime." _

_ So there it is. We have committed a capital crime, and this is what they will use to eliminate us._

Part of Djedi was happy to have the knowledge. But the rest of him realised the enormity of what was left to do.

# # #

The temple was quiet, but Djedi was unable to sleep. The happenings of the last few days swirled inside his head.

"Idu."

He heard the old name whispered in the dark, and leapt up to meet its owner.

"Idu." A statement, not a question.

"Bakenranef?"

"Need to talk to you."

"I'm here." _Would never be anywhere else_.

They stood together; but, given the look on Bakenranef's face, Djedi help back from melting into the man, continuing what they had started at the cliffs.

"Idu. The word has come from Wastet. We will start moving against the temple, and possibly more, very soon."

"Tomorrow?" There wasn't much they could do if it were for tomorrow.

"No, I expect they will call in a few more reinforcements before moving. But it shouldn't take more than a fortnight or so for that to happen."

Djedi thought it over.

"You'll have to make arrangement to leave, you know," Bakenranef continued. "Few places around here to hide once they've come."

_Leaving would be difficult. And where would they go?_

_No, let us focus on tonight for now. It might be the last for awhile._ "Shhh." Djedi lightly placed his finger against Bakenranef's lips. "Not yet, we have things yet to do."

"But soon!" He was clearly agitated. "You can't stay here. Tell your people, gather your things -"

"Shhh." _He wished Bakenranef calm._ "It will not be tonight, and we have not be unaware of this possibility. We have time."

Djedi took Bakenranef by the hand and led him to his sleeping palette; then tugged them down so that they both knelt upon it.

They paused, looking at each other; and then Bakenranef loomed in his sight as they both lent forward to kiss.

They parted, hovering close, focused on each other. And then he smiled, and leaned forward, whispering into the ear, "Yes, I shall teach you of the Aten."

"Eh?" asked Bakenranef. Smiling, Djedi pushed him back with a burst of strength. He then levered himself onto the man's torso and surveyed this prize.

Below him, Bakenranef looked at him, and smiled, and relaxed, awaiting Djedi's pleasure.

Djedi leaned forward and swiped this lips once, twice, three times against Bakenranef's, a tantalising tease, and then brought himself down to lock his lips against the other man's. They engaged fiercely, riding the storm until it passed, and then he drew back.

_"I breathe the sweet breath, which comes forth from thy mouth."_

Bakenranef looked dazed, unfocused - and perfect. Djedi attacked the pale skin, mapping it out, making it his own, working his way down just to the member hard and strong, jutting from the public hair.

He paused, staring at it a moment in all it's perfection, and then whispered, "I behold thy beauty every day."

And then he fell upon it.

He could feel Bakenranef nearly jump through his skin with the pleasure of it. He held him down enough, and slowed the proceedings to prevent any premature end.

And then he began a low hum, which vibrated through him and into Bakenranef.

He played Bakenranef like a fine lute, once again ratcheting up his pleasure.

The man moaned, again about to release - and Djedi pulled away, and grabbed the base of the cock.

A long deep, angular moan issued from the throat.

Again, he slowed down, to give the man a chance to calm a bit.

_Oh, the best is yet to come._

The man beneath him attempted to regain coordination, to move. Djedi whispered, "hush," and opening a jar of unguent next to his mat, once again touched the cock before him.

The man was almost hysterical now, and Djedi was not without mercy; he positioned himself above the cock, one hand on the torso, and engaged the man's wandering line of sight. Once he had his attention, and they locked eyes, he whispered,

_"It is my desire, that I may be rejuvenated, with life through love of thee."_

And slowly, carefully, impaled himself.

Djedi felt he fit perfectly, that this was what he was born and blessed by the Aten to do. He wanted to lose control, ride this out to its conclusion, but there was one more thing to do.

He focused on the man below him, leant slightly forward, and grabbed the hands in his own.

He grinned, while Bakenranef gasped a bit, and said,

_"Give me thy hands, holding thy spirt, that I may receive it and may live by it."_

And then he started to move.

They then moved together, the sensations otherworldly and perfect.

Suddenly, Bakenranef came to life, bringing his knees up and then quickly flipping them so that Djedi was beneath him. Djedi gave him a dirty grin, knowing that Bakenranef was taking over control - this time around.

And they drove on, their pleasures woven together and driving upwards into the night. The pace was fast and frantic, but perfect. Bakenranef changed his angle slightly, and Djedi felt fireworks light up his brain with each stroke. His moans joined in with Bakenranef's, and he just noticed the man's smug smile from the edges of his consciousness.

It was close now, very close for both of them; he could feel the conflagration building in his loins, read to explode. Just there, there, _**there**_ \- and he was lost in it, his soul mindlessly bursting forth, a blaze brighter than a thousand suns bursting before him.

When he came back t consciousness, Bakenranef was a solid weight draped over him. The warmth was comforting but a tad heavy, so he pushed a bit until Bakenranef rolled over a bit.

He yawned, the moulded himself against the other man, completed sated.

He could see Bakenranef slipping into sleep, and there was one more thing to complete. He spoke softly into the sculpted ear,

_**"Call thou upon my name unto eternity, and it shall never fail. **_And this is how we worship the Aten."

He smiled.

# # #

They'd agreed to meet in the tent the evening after any ships had arrived, for safety's sake.

As the sails appeared in the harbour, Djedi knew the time had come.

He got to the tent first, and paced a bit, too tense to even try some of the beer. Visions of all the ways things could go badly marched through his head. He almost leapt through his skin once the flap tilted back and Bakenranef strode in.

"They're here, as you know."

"I know," he replied, somewhat flatly.

"The reinforcements are here," Bakenranef emphasised. "You have to leave. Now."

"No." He frowned, almost sad.

"What do you mean, 'no'? They will be looking for you. I can't guarantee what will happen, but it won't be pretty."

"Can't, Bakenranef. Too many obligations. The village will collapse without us."

"The village will be without you anyway! Don't be daft - they don't give a fig about you. We - you - can come back later, whenever the operation is done."

"Made a promise, Bakenranef. Have to carry it out."

"You mean the stupidity about the Heretic?"

Djedi rolled his eyes at the remark. "Told you - made a promise."

"Told _you_ \- if you don't shift your ass, you won't have to worry about keeping anything."

"Bakenranef," Djedi put his hands firmly on Bakenranef's biceps. "Told you I was a foundling. The Temple took me in as a sprog. Should tell you the rest.

"Pharaoh and the people of Akhetaten had a close bond, even more than the average village of Khem. Our purpose was to build, harvest, support. Well, the people served Pharaoh - but Pharaoh served the people. It was He who created the work that kept everything running and the people fed. And when Pharaoh passed on and the Court moved away to gain the graces of the new Pharaoh, taking all who could leave -"

"You took the place of the Court, and kept the villagers from starving."

"Yes, but not just that. We made a promise, to look over the well-being of those who had gone ahead."

"And you have," Bakenranef pointed out. "You seem to stay hidden behind your temple walls; but if you're any guide, your lot must sneak out all over the place when no one is looking."

"Yes, to make sure that the village has what we can give them, and that we ensure by any means Pharaoh is undisturbed. But this - this - this is beyond anything that we can guard against. If the troops desecrate Pharaoh's tomb, we can't stop them."

"So what do you intend... Oh, no, no," Djedi could tell exactly when Bakenranef understood what he was saying.

"Yes - we need to move him to a place of safety. Pharaoh Akhenaten, Life Prosperity Health, will have to be moved from the hills of Akhetaten."


End file.
